


To Preserve

by ayatsujik



Series: Threads and Times [1]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatsujik/pseuds/ayatsujik
Summary: Natori gets introspective over Touko's jam.





	To Preserve

**Author's Note:**

> Vignette chez Natori's apartment. No spoilers, but it won't make sense unless you're familiar with Natori's family situation and the Hakozaki mansion arc (season 5 and the end of season 6 anime).

Alone in his large, spare, apartment, he opened the bag that Natsume had left. It held three small glass jars, jam-filled and neatly labeled. There was also a note, a pale pink piece of paper covered in the same precise writing. It asked about his health, thanking him for his kindness to Takashi-kun, and instructing him to keep the jam in the fridge to make it last longer. He could almost hear the low, lilting tones of Fujiwara-san's voice; she wrote the way she talked. 

He picked the jars up one by one and studied their contents. The reddish-pink of strawberry, the tawny brown of apple, the orange of amanatsu, studded with gold slivers of peel. Spring fruits: the last of the harvest, probably. Their flavours preserved to last into early summer.

Natori hadn't had home-made jam in years. Not since he'd left his family house, where Sumi, their housekeeper, had occasionally made it for a simple dessert, spooned over yoghurt. He thought of her kind eyes, peering at him from behind her round, old-fashioned glasses; her constant, unobtrusive concern.

_I'll just leave this here. You need to eat more, Shuuichi-bocchan, you're growing so fast._

She was the only person he'd missed after leaving.

The current jam-maker's face shimmered into mental view. He hadn't seen Fujiwara Touko since going to ask for permission to bring Natsume to the hot springs, but he remembered very well her gentle bearing, and the way she'd caressed Natsume's face, her voice warm as she told him how happy she was he had a friend to spend time with. Natsume had been uncertain and shy - perhaps due to her affectionate gestures in front of an acquaintance, perhaps also because he wasn't sure whether or not he was really allowed to go gallivanting off on excursions. But Fujiwara-san's clear pleasure had eased his reluctance. He'd looked like a boy, then, as he'd given in to her assent. He looked a lot more like a boy these days. Natori could see how much more at ease with himself Natsume was becoming; the new softness in his eyes, in the way he spoke.    

Natori had no idea how they did it, these women. How they showered their chosen charges with endless compassion and care, how they created small havens of peace and stability for them. Suddenly he was pierced with sharp regret. For not having kept in touch more with Sumi-san before she'd retired. For failing to thank her properly for all the years she'd helped him to live in a house creaking with patriarchal suspicion and disdain. For partly filling the void of his mother's eternal absence.

At least Natsume had Fujiwara-san. Natori felt a pang of envy, even knowing the circumstances that had brought them together. More than that, though, he was happy that Natsume had a home. A home whose warmth channeled itself out to others through Natsume himself. The thought recalled to him the events of the past day, and the unadorned honesty in Natsume's expressions of concern for him. The way he'd held Natori's gaze, gold-brown eyes so utterly sincere. 

Something twisted in his heart. A kind of yearning. A memory of his own younger self, who had found lying difficult.

You've got the looks, he thought, but the way you are now, you'd make a terrible actor, Natsume.

And maybe you should stay that way.   
  
Natori took a deep breath, running a hand over his face. So many feelings. He hadn't gone through this amount of feelings since first deciding to become an exorcist, and the various run-ins he'd experienced with Matoba Seiji at the time. So troublesome, this boy.

(So necessary.)

He'd need to pay the Fujiwara household a courtesy call as thanks for the jam. With more flowers. Maybe lilies, if he went in May, or geraniums. Possibly an extra bunch for Natsume, just to embarrass him. And hopefully the boy would keep out of trouble, even carrying that terrible heirloom with him all the time - no, of course he wouldn't. But there were ways to watch over him.

(Having people to worry about wasn't, in fact, an unpleasant state of affairs.)

Natori put away the note and placed the jars in the large fridge that held nothing but a few bottles of mineral water.

I'll have to get some yoghurt, he thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> For a loose sequel to this, see [50/50](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12092823).


End file.
